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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28896336">Don't Shut Up</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhNoMyBreadsticks/pseuds/OhNoMyBreadsticks'>OhNoMyBreadsticks</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Army, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Falling In Love, Fluff and Humor, Getting Together, Guns, M/M, Threats of Violence, annoyance to lovers, not quite enemies but certainly not friends lmao</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 09:47:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,722</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28896336</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhNoMyBreadsticks/pseuds/OhNoMyBreadsticks</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Geralt enjoys his life in the army - it's simple and peaceful. That is, until Specialist Pankratz joins his unit, and all hell breaks loose.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>107</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Don't Shut Up</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is an older fic that I realized I never actually posted to AO3! So here it is :D The concept was inspired by Socks and I watching Man from U.N.C.L.E. and probably talking about how the combat scenes are just A+ spicy </p>
<p>Full disclaimer: I don't know shit about how the army actually works, so all the details about combat/specialists is bullshit I made up XD Please don't come to this fic looking for accuracy, because there really isn't any</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>All in all, Geralt would say he liked his job. He wasn’t a sentimental person, no, but there was a pleasantness to the simplicity of it all. Military life had a structure to it, a rhythm and a flow that wasn’t generally disrupted by questions or distractions. He woke every morning at a designated time, completed his training, and went on missions. As a demolitions expert, his job was generally to make sure that the other soldiers could get from point A to point B, although he had seen his fair share of combat. The teams he worked with were generally efficient, and the leadership left little room for individual thought or questioning. As previously stated - pleasant in its simplicity.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That is, until he met Julian, the newest member of Geralt’s combat unit. Julian, or Jaskier, or Specialist Pankratz, or whatever the fuck ridiculous name he was going by on any particular day. The only thing more ridiculous than his plethora of names was his attitude. Geralt had never met a man who delighted in the army-issued beret as much as this idiot - it was always at some jaunty yet terribly impractical angle threatening to slide off his mop of brown hair. If there weren’t strict dress codes to be adhered to, Geralt was sure Julian would have been wearing the most garish colors possible at every opportunity. It was just a feeling he got when he was forced to watch the other man primp and preen in the common bathrooms. He seemed to compensate for the lack of personal touches to his outfit by using twenty different shampoos and body washes, always clutching some new bottle in the shower.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>All of these odd practical habits paled in the face of the Noise though, in Geralt’s humble opinion. Julian just...never shut up. Ever. Geralt wasn’t sure he had ever caught the man in a truly silent moment. When he wasn’t prattling on about anything and everything, he was singing softly to himself, or humming. In briefings Geralt had been sure he would get at least a short respite from the incessant noise (after all, even Julian wouldn’t be stupid enough to interrupt a ranking officer while they were talking). And yet, that was not to be, as Geralt’s sensitive ears picked up a tell-tale drumming beat the entire way through the meeting - Julian tapping his fingers softly on the table in front of him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt had tried everything to dissuade Julian from continuing his incessant chatter. He had tried the silent hulking brute strategy, just glowering at the slightly smaller man any time he got close. This usually worked without Geralt even trying, as evidenced by his lack of other social interaction in general. But Julian didn’t seem to notice or care. Then Geralt had tried snapping at him whenever his babbling began to interfere with his attempts to concentrate. That was even more of an abysmal failure, as Julian seemed to take any words as an invitation for conversation. Even a simple and clear “Shut the hell up!” didn’t dampen his enthusiasm. And with those two strategies exhausted, Geralt was out of options unfortunately. It wasn’t like he could physically assault the other man, seeing as brawling between officers was frowned upon.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>So Geralt simply had to endure Julian and his constant stream of chatter. On the plus side, he did get better at tuning the man out, letting his voice become a constant background noise he could choose to concentrate on or not at any given moment. Like, say, when he was trying to calculate the appropriate amount of C4 to blow a steel door, or what kind of land mine might work best for this combat situation. Those were the moments when he most wished for silence, so that he could hear himself think. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It wasn’t like his own life and the life of his teammates were on the line thanks to his decisions</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Geralt thought grimly. Well, most of his teammates. Julian was never in the thick of it, always off in some perimeter location, the sound of his voice echoing through their comm system instead of directly into Geralt’s ear. Granted, his commentary during missions was at times helpful (descriptions of the terrain, the number of enemy soldiers, the direction of the wind), but Geralt still yearned for the times before Julian had been introduced into his life.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Or at least, that was what Geralt thought he yearned for. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They were out on a mission to capture an enemy encampment, Geralt’s squad coming in after the first wave to secure entry for the main force to follow. Geralt had his full bag strapped across his back but still easily kept up with his teammates, the five of them weaving from cover to cover as gunshots echoed around them. When they reached the side of the main building Geralt got to work, unloading the explosives and affixing them with practiced fingers. His squad spread out to offer cover, Julian’s voice as always in his ear. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Wow, the light show sure is incredible today! Can’t wait to see what your handiwork will add to the mix!” Julian chirped, “There’s a force mobilizing in the main courtyard, but our guys have them pinned for now.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt simply grunted in response, a pair of wire cutters gritted between his teeth as he measured and attached the appropriate connectors to make sure none of his men would get caught in this explosion. They’d have the time they needed to get out of here before it blew. Unfortunately, the question of if he’d have time to properly set the explosives was starting to feel like less of a given. The sound of gunshots was getting louder, and Geralt could pick up individual yells and commands being shouted. The sounds of a scuffle, a grunt and a scream, the pound of boots on rough terrain. Suddenly he realized - he could hear all of this because there was nothing coming from his comm link. The voice on the other end had gone dead silent, and Geralt wasn’t prepared for the gut punch of fear that instilled in him.</span>
  <span></span>
    <br/>
  
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“Julian?” He said, spitting out the wire cutters as he rushed to try and affix the last connector, “Come in, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Julian?!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” There was no way he could just be gone, just like that. And yet, Geralt knew that on the battlefield that was absolutely a possibility. The silence was so loud it was making his ears ring, the unexpected fear making his fingers clumsy and his pulse erratic. His head whipped around as an enemy soldier suddenly skidded around the corner - his position was compromised. Geralt’s hand went to his belt, reaching for his gun, but in his mind he knew he wasn’t going to be fast enough, wasn’t going to be able to defend himself. He grit his teeth and tried anyways, pistol sliding out of the holster with practiced ease, raising it as fast as his arms would allow - </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And the enemy soldier crumpled to the ground, a single shot ringing out in the air. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt was left aiming at nothing, his finger on the trigger shaking almost imperceptibly. “Fuck.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck indeed!” The familiar voice on the other end of the comm link said, “That was a perfect shot if I have to say so myself! You get back to those explosives, I’ve got you covered.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Geralt swore again, for good measure, holstering his gun and returning to his work even as his heart tried to beat out of his chest, relief and adrenaline a heady mix. “You went quiet.” He grumbled, the accusatory words hiding the impact that silence had had on his entire worldview. It wasn’t very nice, and it certainly wasn’t what he should have said to the man who had just saved his life, but Julian didn’t seem to mind. Julian never seemed to mind. He just laughed, the sound mixing with the clink of an empty shell casing popping out of a rifle.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course I did. I had to line up my shot, silly. It was an important one.” Julian explained, as if that were the most obvious thing in the world. Geralt didn’t reply, punching in the numbers for the detonation timer, but it was okay. This time, when Geralt fell silent, the voice on the other end of the line filled the void for him. It was the strangest feeling in the world, to realize that at some point, instead of grating at his nerves, Julian’s chatter had become comforting. It was a given in Geralt’s life that he could rely on, a sign of one person who had seen through the bravado and bluster and decided to stay. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The thought echoing through Geralt’s head for the rest of the battle - through the detonation of the wall, through the troops pouring in, through the smoke clouding the air as medics picked through the survivors - was </span>
  <em>
    <span>What do I do now?</span>
  </em>
  <span> He felt as if he were on the edge of some great revelation, some action he needed to take to still the strange beating of his heart. But the answer eluded him, even as he finally holstered his weapons and pulled back the strands of hair that had escaped their confines during the battle. It wasn’t until he spotted Julian picking his way across the courtyard towards him, ridiculously large rifle slung across his back, that Geralt finally knew what he needed to do.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Julian’s mouth tasted of soot and sweat and </span>
  <em>
    <span>life</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and he made a delightful squeak as Geralt swooped down to kiss him. His exclamation of “Fucking finally!” was also swallowed up by Geralt’s greedy lips, intent on drinking up every single noise this ridiculously wonderful man would give him. When they parted, panting for air, he looked down to find Julian grinning up at him, and found to his surprise that he was grinning right back. He had made the right choice, after all.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t go quiet like that again.” Geralt rumbled, hoping Julian could hear the words he really wanted to say - </span>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t leave me.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And when Julian replied with a chuckle “Only if I have to save your life again” Geralt heard his reply loud and clear - </span>
  <em>
    <span>You won’t be able to get rid of me even if you tried.</span>
  </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this little AU offering! It's fun to revisit old work sometimes C:</p>
<p>Any and all comments or kudos at any time are loved and cherished &lt;3 If you'd like to see more of my drabbles or stop by for a chat you can find me over on <a href="https://ohnomybreadsticks.tumblr.com/">tumblr</a>! :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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